


In The Midst of Our Ruin

by aspiringdreamer



Series: Me.You.Him.Us [1]
Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst for dayssss, But so does Steve, Kid!Fic, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Peter Parker as a kid, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Civil War (Marvel), Superfamily (Marvel), Tony hurts so pretty, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 23:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7075687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aspiringdreamer/pseuds/aspiringdreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I hate you so much right now" Tony says then, voice laced with venom, and in that moment it's the truest thing he's ever said. </p><p>"Then why did you call? If you hate me so much...why did you?" Steve throws back. It's all bark, no fight though, and this will always be them; breathing hard, biting back harsh truths, secrets, cutting words that form at the tip of their tongues, waiting there, just to hurt.</p><p>                                                             *<br/>A Post-Civil War AU, where Peter Parker is Steve and Tony's 3-year-old son. </p><p>In which Steve and Tony are broken, and it was always going to be this way. </p><p>Based on the movie: Captain America: Civil War</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Midst of Our Ruin

I didn’t want to call you” is the first thing out of Tony’s mouth once the phone connects on the other side. Steve remains quiet, save for the hitch in his breath at every intake. _'It’s late at night back home'_ , Steve thinks, and wonders if Tony can’t sleep either; wonders if he dreams of fists and fury and blood and _hurt_. It plays like a cruel loop in Steve’s head, fills him with disgust and sick satisfaction _(I beat you, Tony)_ , because he almost killed Tony... _he wanted to_. He wonders if Tony feels the same, _felt_ the same. He wonders…

Tony takes a deep breath and--

“I read your letter. How nice of you to send it, by the way” Tony throws out sarcastically and so guarded. _It wasn’t always like this._

“It’s funny” _-It’s not-_ “I was listening to our voicemail recording...you know the one with Peter screaming bloody murder in the background, about not wanting to wear his underwear.” Tony laughs. It sounds broken, maybe.

“I was listening to it,” he continues “and that stupid phone you sent me was right there. It was _right there_. It’s been sitting on my desk for weeks...and...and Peter...and...I just.” Tony takes a deep breath again; in and out, disjointed like a staccato, sounding less sure than when he started.

“I just kept wondering if you knew I couldn’t stay away. If you... _God_ , I’m so fucking angry with you Steve. I can’t even put it...It’s just building and building and _building_.” And Steve is quiet through it all. He let’s Tony have this, just this once, he let’s him have this.

“Rhodey’s doing fine, by the way. I thought you should let Sam know.” It’s so abrupt, so matter of fact, that Steve has to bite back a fond huff, because this is so very like Tony; brain constantly moving, words and thoughts and conversations forming in hyper-speed.

“Vision blames himself.” _he should_ , Tony thinks selfishly.

“He doesn’t want me to know, but I know he does.” _pause_

"I’d like to say a part of me doesn’t blame him either, but we both know i’ve never been that great with compartmentalization.” And Steve knows, he _knows_ ; Because this won’t be something they can just dismiss and move forward with. It will always be there, this unbearable strain on everything they had built.

“Peter misses you. He cries when he thinks i’m not looking...He doesn’t deserve this Steve, he’s just a kid. He doesn’t deserve what you leaving has done to him.” _You don’t get to put this on me Tony, not this._

“ _Fuck_ Steve, do you even want to come home? Do you even want to see him?” And Steve is angry, so incredibly angry now, and terrified, and _ashamed_.

“ _Of course_ I want to come home Tony, _Jesus_. I’ll always want to see my son.” Steve finally interjects. Steve’s ire fuels Tony, because of course it does. This is them at their best, guards up, insults at the ready; but this is also them at their worst, their absolute worst.

“Your son?”

“ _Yes_ , my son”

“What about me, huh, Steve? What about us? Or is that not a priority anymore?”

“ _Tony_ ” Steve says exasperatedly, voice tight, and Tony swears he almost hears it waver...almost.

“Come home then. If you want this so badly, come home” Tony says just as provoked. He knows it won’t be that easy, won’t ever be, but _‘it can be if you let it Steve. It can, maybe’._

“You know I can’t. It’s more complicated than that.” Steve says it quietly, as if that will ease the pressure of the taut grip his words have on Tony. As if that will make this all _easier_ somehow.

“How is..” Tony starts, defiantly.

“Oh, for _fuck’s sake_ Tony!” and Steve rarely curses anymore, Tony thinks, not since they had Peter.

_“I’d rather our son’s first word not be ‘fuck or shit’ Tony.” Steve says pointedly; and Tony laughs and laughs and laughs, lips pressed loosely to Steve’s sweat-stained neck, saying “I love it when you talk dirty to me”; and Steve’s blush feels like it will burst from the pores of his skin, and Tony loves and loves and loves--_

The memory hits him so suddenly, he almost recoils from the force of it. He clutches the small phone to his hand tightly as Steve keeps spitting words about why he can’t come back, why they can’t just…

Steve is yelling at him now. It always seems like that's all he does these days.

“You know why! I don’t know if i’ll be coming home to you and our son waiting for me, or an ambush of government agents waiting to lock me up in an underwater prison. I don’t know if you’ll be treating me as your husband, or with the same disregard you showed to our friends Tony, our _friends_. God...” And Tony knows Steve is running his hands through his hair right now, over and over again; they way he does when he’s anxious, and frustrated, and so very, very scared.

“How sad is it that I can’t decipher which reality it will be; that I can’t trust you enough to just _know_.” Steve finishes, but it doesn’t feel like an ending, like he’s said all that needs to be said.

It’s so quiet after that. Tony can hear the thrum of _something_ on the other line, can hear Steve’s rattled breathing, barely controlled; so unhinged, so like _Steve_. It’s the most silent it’s been between them since this whole “war” started; it’s terrifying, and Tony will break it, like he’s broken so many things; like he’s broken them _‘but only partly,’_ He thinks _‘it’s not only him. Steve...Steve’._

“I hate you so much right now” Tony says then, voice laced with venom, and in that moment it’s the truest thing he’s ever said.

“Then why did you call? If you hate me so much...why did you?” Steve throws back. It’s all bark, no fight though, and this will always be them; breathing hard, biting back harsh truths, secrets, cutting words that form at the tip of their tongues, waiting there, just to _hurt_.

“I don’t know...I...I just wanted; I don’t know what I wanted” and Tony’s voice is all pain and desolation. It’s all Steve can do to keep from saying _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I love you._

“Was it worth it?” Tony whispers after a while, and Steve is almost thrown aback by it.

“What was?” Steve asks. He doesn’t understand, he doesn’t...

“You leaving me, leaving _us_...for him” _Oh_

“I didn’...” Steve tries

“You did” and Steve sighs, and it’s filled with an emotion Tony can’t place anymore.

 _‘See! I’m already forgetting how much I know you, Steve’_ Tony wants to say-

“I couldn’t let you hurt him, Tony. I couldn’t…”

“Okay.” Tony says. _He killed my parents, my mom, Steve. How could you? Was this not enough? Was I not enough? Why am I never enough?-_ is what he wants to scream, though.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've been bouncing around dialogue for this fic for days around my head. My mother thought I was going crazy arguing back and forth with myself. 
> 
> The Civil War comic event kicked me in the chest, but man, seeing it in visual form, though modified, really enhanced the pain the 616 universe has caused me. It was only natural to write this. 
> 
> I do plan to turn this into a series, documenting the before, the middle, and the after; snippets of the really good, the WTF, and the 'yeah, how do we come back from this?'
> 
> Thoughts and critiques are always welcome. Enjoy!


End file.
